


Two Birds in the Hand

by SoftButchCassidy



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Desk Sex, Fluff, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Set before Osiris' exile, Smut, Teasing, gross old men in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:53:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22980532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftButchCassidy/pseuds/SoftButchCassidy
Summary: Osiris is close to something, he knows it. Saint knows it, too, but it's definitely not what Osiris was thinking. But Osiris sure won't complain when his husband is interrupting his work with that rumbling voice and clever fingers...Okay, he'll complain a little bit. Just to make Saint more impatient.
Relationships: Osiris/Saint-14 (Destiny)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 116





	Two Birds in the Hand

**Author's Note:**

> two birds in the hand what will they do? the answer will not surprise you! it's *they fuck*  
> stupid dumb gay old men who need to kiss and make up!!!!!!!!!!!  
> no sad here it's all happy smut

“Osiris.”

“Can’t be right… got to run them again… a missing number, perhaps, or…”

“Osiris.”

“Maybe a shift of temporal… ah, that might be it…? Unless it’s--”

“Hmph. Okay. Be that way.”

Osiris didn’t jump. But the large, cool body that pressed up against him nearly startled him. His hands paused on the desk. He turned his head just a little, seeing silver out of the corner of his eye. “Saint,” he said smoothly. “I’m working.”

“Mhm.” Saint slid his hands around Osiris’ waist. “I know.”

Osiris sighed. “What is it?”

“Mm. Nothing, love.”

Osiris paused and shifted his weight. “It certainly doesn’t seem like nothing,” he said dryly.

Saint leaned in. His mouth nipped at the edge of Osiris’ ear, sending a tiny shiver down his spine. “You’re working too much.”

“I’m not working enough,” Osiris replied.

“I’ll beg to differ.”

Osiris scoffed. “Love, that’s not how the phrase goes--”

“I know.”

Osiris shook his head. “I’m tempted,” he confessed, softer. “But I’m near something, I can feel it. There’s an answer here… I just have to look harder…”

Saint sighed and tugged Osiris back into him. “Osiris,” he said, his voice rumbling through Osiris’ chest. “You’re overworking yourself. You will find no answers if you’re too deep into it that you can’t see it properly anymore. You need break.”

Osiris huffed. “Saint, I’m fine--”

“I miss you.”

The three murmured words had Osiris frozen in place.

Seconds ticked by. 

Slowly Osiris turned his head. His pen tapped softly on the table. “Miss me?” he repeated.

“I won’t disagree that your work is important,” Saint said. “But you are important, too. Both your own well-being… and you are important to me.” He rubbed his thumbs slowly along Osiris’ hip. “You’ve felt far away lately.”

“I’m sorry,” Osiris murmured.

“Prove it.”

Osiris knit his brow. “Prove it?” he repeated, confused.

“I won’t believe you are unless you show me,” Saint said. 

“Show you--” Osiris interrupted himself with a huffy sigh. He pressed back into Saint before twisting in his arms and reaching up. “Wretched man,” he grumbled, grasping him to pull him down.

Saint’s jaw lit bright with a grin before Osiris caught his mouth. He kissed him eagerly, almost too tenderly for Osiris’ impatience and his own hand sliding down the Warlock’s spine to his backside.

Osiris nudged him with his knee. “Really? Here?”

Saint chuckled and pulled him flush, hips already twitching against him. “We could leave,” he offered. 

Osiris took a deep breath and shook his head. “No, no. You’ve changed my mind.” He had a dangerous glint in his deep brown eyes, calculating far differently than he had two minutes ago.

"I love that look you get," Saint said.

Osiris curled his mouth in half a grin before pulling the Titan in again. He kissed him harder, hotter. Hands fumbled through layers of armor to touch skin and smooth metal.

Saint rolled his hips into Osiris, trying to urge him back a step into the table.

Osiris took him by surprise.

Saint let out a surprised sound as Osiris spun them both around and pushed him into the table. The Warlock pressed his leg between Saint's, thigh against his crotch. He dappled open-mouthed kisses across Saint's throat. 

"You missed me, too," Saint said, jovial and breathless.

Osiris chuckled. "And didn't realize. But you're also rude. You interrupted me, Saint, my love."

Osiris felt the hitch in Saint's systems. “So I did. What of it?”

“Bold of you, to challenge me,” Osiris said.

“I’m a Titan, beloved, it is in our nature.”

“I think I’ve already won.”

“Have you now?”

Osiris slid a hand between them to trail down Saint’s chest. He tugged away his Mark and grinned hungrily as he cupped his prize. “Yes. I would say so.”

Saint jerked his hips into his touch with a soft curse. “I-- I would agree, but it would go to your head.”

Osiris rolled his eyes. “Were I less refined of a man, I’m sure I’d have some joke about that.”

Saint paused, and then burst out with a laugh. His touch was more tender now. “Hearing you make filthy jokes would be a hell of a thing,” he said.

Osiris interrupted his chortling with another appreciative squeeze. “Perhaps later,” he said. “There’s something I’m far more interested in right now.”

“And what, pray tell, is it?”

Osiris raised a hand to let a small bottle transmat. He smirked at Saint’s optics glued to his fingers. “Turn around for me?”

Saint was frozen for a long second.

Then they were both moving fast. Armor rattled and clattered in their hurry, interrupting themselves with heated kisses and groping touches. Osiris couldn’t be damned to get all their clothes off, so he settled with pressing Saint up against his table and reaching around to stroke his length. Saint’s hands tightened into fists and he groaned.

“Osiris,” Saint complained. “Come on, then, already.”

Osiris let his hand heat and relished the moaned curse it earned him. “So impatient,” he chided. “Aren’t Titans supposed to be better about that?”

“Not when it’s like this. Not when it’s you,” Saint said. His eyes glimmered violet, intense, pleading over his shoulder pauldrons. 

Osiris wrestled with his belt.

Maybe using his solar Light to warm lubricant was a fairly inappropriate usage of his powers, but Osiris didn’t really give a damn when he was sliding two slick fingers between Saint’s thighs to find his internal mod. Saint inhaled sharp as Osiris stroked his fingers around his entrance and shifted apart his legs.

“Tease,” Saint hissed.

“You enjoy it.”

Saint huffed and leaned forward onto his forearms, shoulders hunched. “Damn you, Osiris,” he swore. “Please, fuck me already--”

Osiris plunged his fingers into him, silencing the Defender into a glitched gasp. 

He kissed along his back, what of it that was exposed in their harried rush. He set a slow, lazy pace, which he knew Saint loathed like this. He knew Saint wanted it fast, intense; that was exactly why he wasn’t doing that. “You’re so good for me, love,” he murmured. “Sometimes I think I could get off just doing this.”

Saint shifted and pressed his hips back into his hand. “I’d rather you get off in me,” he said bluntly.

Osiris scissored his fingers, encouraging his body to release artificial lubricant. He could feel the slick starting to really build up. Unlike when their positions were reversed, Saint didn’t need very much prep. Still, he kept his pace the same. “I plan on it,” he assured. “When I’m ready.”

“What are you--”

“I think I’d like to see you unravel first.”

Saint cursed softly. “Really? Now, Osiris?”

“It’s only fair,” he said smoothly. “You, after all, did interrupt me.”

Saint huffed. “You are terrible, just terrible. I can feel you. You aren’t as patient as you think you are, love.” He pressed his ass back into him, pointedly against the hardness of Osiris’ cock in his pants. Osiris, in turn, pointedly kept his hips still.

“A lesson in restraint for both of us.”

“I’m not interested in lessons, I’m interested in you fucking me.”

Osiris hummed in understanding and changed nothing. Saint tightened his fists against the table with a curse.

“Good,” Osiris whispered. “Very good, Saint.”

Saint shuddered at the tone. He all but melted at just the simple praise. 

Osiris took his time, murmuring soft praises and compliments until Saint was shaking and his fans whirred so hard he feared they might shatter. His fingers hurt a little from the awkward crook of them pressed deep into Saint, but he ignored it easily. 

Saint leaned forward with a nearly pathetic whine. A plea. His optics glitched out, an exo’s version of tears.

“Beautiful, so good,” Osiris cooed softly. He shifted and without further warning, picked up his pace.

Saint gasped and jerked into his hand, rocked back into the other. He shuddered violently with a final rough thrust and cut off whatever sound he was going to make. His jaw went dark, silent, though his optics flickered and every artificial muscle went rigid.

Osiris pumped his fingers gently into him and stroked his cock through it. Artificial come spattered out onto his desk--damn. Oh, well. It was easy enough to clean, at least.

Saint panted hard as he went slack, systems resetting. “Awful,” he groaned.

“You enjoyed every moment.”

“Putting it mildly.” Saint straightened and reached a hand past himself to touch Osiris. “Come on, already, you’ve had your fun--”

Osiris thrust his fingers into him again, harder, cutting him off. “I haven’t yet,” he purred. “Three times before your sensors are overclocked.”

Saint shuddered. “Osiris, please.”

He paused. “If you don’t want that, tell me.”

Saint shook his head. “Not now. Not this time. I like it plenty, but you’ve teased me enough, you wretched man. I… ah, ha, fuck, I want… need… you, just you.”

Osiris slid his fingers gently out of him. “Turn,” he murmured.

Saint glanced over his shoulder and started to turn. He made a very undignified sound when Osiris hauled him up onto the desk. “Osiris!”

He smirked as he shoved himself between his thighs, kissing at his throat. “You forget how strong I am, love?” he asked innocently. 

Saint’s hands wandered, groping and caressing anywhere he could, freeing Osiris from his pants with a victorious grin. “Perhaps,” he admitted. 

Osiris urged him into position, shivering at the touches. “Don’t break my desk.”

“No promises.”

“You’ll pay for a new one.”

“Might be risk I am willing to take.”

Osiris snorted. “Stars above, I adore you.”

Saint grinned.

“May I?”

“Yes, for the love of the Light, fuck me already--!” 

Saint cut off into a sharp sound as Osiris pressed up against him in the middle of his sentence. Osiris hummed pleased at finally getting some friction against his aching cock and lined himself up.

Both men breathed hard, heart and coolant-pump beating in rapid tandem. Saint shivered at the salty-smoky scent of sweat and Light on Osiris’ skin, the rich herbal smell of the incense that clung to his robes, the heat of his breath against over tuned sensors. 

Osiris nearly melted against him as he sank into his lover. He’d really forgotten how good he felt, how much he loved to just be here, inside of Saint, all around him, grasping at his Light with the edges of his sex-hazy thoughts. The feeling of Saint’s twitchy fingers unable to stay still along his back as he settled inside him--the sign of his unraveling, when Saint was always ever the steadfast one.

They stayed still a few moments, basking in sensation, in each other’s company, in their Light.

Saint nudged him with his heel.

Osiris kissed his jaw and shifted. 

Armor rattled and clattered as Osiris started to move, as Saint met him a little more gingerly with his awkward position on the desk. They found their rhythm quickly, a familiar song and dance. Neither felt a need to speak now, teasing or otherwise, only soft grunts and moans and half-whispered names. Osiris tightened his hands on the ribbons draping Saint’s armor to thrust into him harder, and relished the sound that crackled out of the Titan’s voice modulator. Beautiful, he thought. 

Saint pulled him in, fans whirring hard. He couldn’t keep his hands still, grabbing at Osiris’ armor, cupping the nape of his neck, squeezing his ass.

“Ah, Osiris,” Saint groaned, arching his spine and twitching harder.

Osiris laved his solar-heated tongue over the sensitive wires in Saint's throat. His Light was flaring up hot in response to the erratic pulse of Saint's void thrumming out each time their hips met. 

He was so good, as always, warm and slick and so inviting, responsive. Osiris wasn’t really chasing his own end, though. He reacted to what Saint wanted, giving him more. He was greedy, hungry, selfish; he craved his lover’s bliss. 

Saint’s modulator clicked and his skittering fingertips twitched wildly. Osiris grinned eagerly into his throat, heart pounding with anticipation. Close, he knew. He moved quicker, harder, panting against him.

Saint grabbed him hard with a garbled curse.

Osiris eased to an agonizingly slow, tender pace as Saint’s body went tense. The Titan’s hands were almost painfully tight, but Osiris didn’t care when he was clenching down around him, artificial come spilling between them, a blissful static humming from him.

Saint finally gasped and went lax, eyes flickering as his systems reset. Osiris started to withdraw, but found himself being held firm.

Saint looked him in the eye, optics glittering. “Osiris,” he said, chiding. 

Osiris furrowed his brow. 

Saint rolled his optics and moved his hips. Osiris hissed at the reminder that he was still very much buried inside him. “Finish,” Saint said.

Osiris opened his mouth.

Saint caught his face in a kiss before speaking again. “I’ll switch us and sit on you until you come,” he threatened. “I love you, you awful bastard, I want you to finish in me.”

Osiris laughed breathlessly and fucked into him again. “Have I said… you’re not… great at… pillow talk?”

Saint groaned and arched his back. “Harder,” he answered.

Osiris leaned into him. It wasn’t often that either of them really wanted this. Osiris loved to give, to see him unravel, to break down his lover and build him back up piece by piece. So this… it was rare, for Saint to be what could only be described as needy, wanting to be fucked senseless. But Osiris would give Saint the world.

And if, in that moment, “the world” that Saint so desperately desired was Osiris’ dick, he wouldn’t really complain. 

So he clutched him hard and had his way, that rough edge that Saint liked so much. Osiris never took it farther than that little edge when they were making love. He would tease him endlessly, yes, but it was different--

“Osiris, stop thinking,” Saint hissed at him, rutting back up against him. “Shut your mind and fuck me, love,  _ please--” _

Osiris shoved his thoughts aside and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to his throat. The fire was swelling. Saint was so good, as close to perfect as there could be, heavenly in name and touch, and Osiris loved him. 

He felt a burst of heat from himself in warning before the tension snapped. He grabbed Saint hard, a solar flare in his eyes, mind pleasantly numb with blissed static as he pressed in deep and spilled into him. 

When Osiris’ brain recollected itself, and he panted hard into Saint’s chest, he chuckled breathlessly. “You came again.”

Saint’s modulator clicked a traitorous reset. “I can’t help,” Saint said, almost wry. “You’re perfect.”

Osiris laughed again. Slowly, gingerly, he drew back. “Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you.”

Saint shimmied his hips. It was comical, the massive, broad Titan wiggling where he sat, hand sliding down to cup his entrance. “Well, I don’t think we broke your desk.”

“Good,” Osiris said. “Though cleaning it will be… annoying.” He shook his head and reached down to start fixing his armor. “But worth it.”

Saint didn’t make any moves to dress again. Osiris raised an eyebrow at him as he fit himself back into his pants. “Saint, love?”

Saint nudged his fingers into himself, making Osiris’ mouth go dry. “How do you do it?”

“What?”

“Make me feel as good as you do.”

“Because I want to.” Osiris stepped in again, cupped his face. “I love you. I notice what you enjoy, and do that more. It makes me happy to make you happy. Your joy is mine, and that sort of thing.”

“You get off to getting me off?”

“That’s… yes, that’s about right.” Osiris looked down and licked his lips, watching him fingering himself, the white fluid that clung to his fingers that he pressed in deeper. “But you don’t have the same unfortunate limitations I do. Clearly. So it’s only fair to bring you as far as possible so that we have the same ending… though it appears I underestimated you.”

Saint shrugged. His optics were a little hazy. “Oversensitive,” he said vaguely. “I missed you.”

Osiris hummed softly. He was tempted, but biology denied him. He dragged his eyes back up Saint’s body to his face and grinned slowly. “Before you get up,” he said smoothly, “let me apologize for being so absent,  _ neshama. _ ”

Saint’s brow plates shifted together in confusion for a moment. 

The confusion vanished the moment Osiris sank to his knees.

**Author's Note:**

> come stop by my tumblr @lesbianeliksni


End file.
